French Inhale
by SushiBomb
Summary: It was that one little thing that Gokudera did with the smoke that Yamamoto found so ridiculously sexy. 8059 fluff. Rated for mild shounen-ai, language, themes and content. For me and Kyoasaurus's month late b-day fic exchange. Enjoy!


A/N: Hey Kyon-Kyon! Here's your extremely late b-day one shot! And you know, even though I've never really been into 8059, I think this came out pretty smexy.

Warnings: Mild yaoi/shounen-ai, language, themes and content.

Disclaimer: Sushi*Bomb does not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! My life is unfortunate because of this fact.

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><p>French Inhale<p>

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><p>It had never really been something Yamamoto found remotely attractive. In his mind, smoking was an activity for old grumpy men, people that were too weak to withstand peer pressure, and kids who wanted to seem cool by acting older than they were. He of course had been solicited by friends to try it on numerous occasions, but never tried. Yamamoto had confidence in himself, and cared for his body and health. As a hardcore athlete, he prided himself in maintaining a perfectly healthy lifestyle, and felt that being healthy was the best thing a person could ever do for themselves.<p>

Even if he hadn't been, the concept of inhaling toxins into your body on a regular basis wouldn't have been any less abhorrent in his mind. It was a terribly digusting habit; it made your breath smell, turned your teeth all brown and gunky, it made your clothes stink, and it even gave you Cancer! Why someone would willingly do it when they could end up like that was beyond Yamamoto's admittedly simple mind, and it was most certainly not something he found arousing. Not at all.

So in all honesty, Yamamoto was hard-pressed to find a good enough reason to explain why the hell he was watching Gokudera so intently as he puffed away on his first of possibly many cigarettes that day. It wasn't like he had never seen him do it or anything; Gokudera was something of a chain smoker, and usually managed to smoke at least two cigarettes on their daily walk to school. One on the way to Tsuna's house, and then another when they began the short trek to their middle school. Then two more on their lunch break, and pretty much the rest of the pack throughout the rest of the day.

Gokudera usually smoked more when he was frustrated or annoyed, or just generally in a bad mood, which, if Tsuna wasn't present to calm him down, was a fair amount of the time. But something Yamamoto had recently noticed about the silver-haired bomber's smoking habits was that when he was in deep thought, Gokudera tended to do… oddly attractive things while smoking.

He had first noticed a couple weeks ago when they were fighting in the Ring Conflict. That had been an unbelievably stressful time for all of them, but he knew it went triple for Gokudera, who was usually flustered and stressed out to begin with.

His training hadn't been going as well as everyone else's, and that unspoken anxiety was written all over his face, in his actions, and of course, the way he smoked. Yamamoto recalled that during that time, Gokudera had upped his habit to almost two packs a day.

Then adding his loss to the Varia's storm guardian…what was his name? Belphemon? Belphegun? In any case, Gokudera had been utterly humiliated to lose to such a psychopath, especially after all the training he went through with Shamal. He took that loss harder than they probably knew, even though he was assured by his beloved tenth that it was better that he lost the battle than to die.

He knew Gokudera valued the tenth's opinion of him above all else, and Yamamoto knew in his mind, Gokudera was having a difficult time wrapping his brilliant mind around the fact that no one faulted him for retreating and consequently losing the battle.

In the weeks after the battles, Gokudera had been slightly withdrawn. Of course, he never let Tsuna see that side of him; he would be his usual, over-zealous self around the brunette boy, with his manic shouts of 'Jyuudaime!' erupting from his mouth ever so often and general waiting on Tsuna hand and foot. But Yamamoto noticed the slight falter in his smile when Tsuna turned away, and the lackluster backlash when Lambo would say something uncouth. He also noticed that even though he was clearly depressed, Gokudera looked kind of …**hot**… when he smoked.

Like right now, for instance.

Their daily walk to Tsuna's house was remarkably silent, both he and Gokudera were lost in their thoughts. He wasn't sure what Gokudera was thinking about, although if he had to guess, he imagined it had something to do with that night on the third floor of their middle school.

Yamamoto, on the other hand, was thinking about how good Gokudera happened to look this morning. He felt bad for thinking that, because if Gokudera knew what was on his mind at the moment, Yamamoto was certain the bomber would blow him half-way across the world. Not to mention it was an inappropriate train of thought to have in such a situation in general, when his fellow guardian was in such dire spirits.

But honestly, Yamamoto couldn't really help it.

And secretly, as horrible a friend and comrade as he knew this made him, he kinda liked Gokudera like this. It wasn't that he was a sadist or anything; Yamamoto's heart really did go out to his unwilling friend and rival. It was just that…he was doing _that thing_ again.

And that thing really turned Yamamoto on for some reason.

It was that thing he did with the smoke. This one little thing that the bomber did when no one was paying attention, one of the teeny, tiny idiosyncracies of his prolific smoking habit that made Yamamoto smile and bite his lip. Now that he thought about it, it seemed that even Gokudera himself didn't really notice when he did it. Every so often, the silver-haired storm guardian would take a slow, deliberate puff on his cigarette as he absently took in his surroundings, and…

Ohhh, he did it again.

Yamamoto's lips curled giddily at the corners. How had no one noticed that he did that with the smoke when he was daydreaming?

"Problem, baseball freak?" Gokudera snapped at him suddenly, casting the taller teen a frigid, sideways glare as they turned onto Tsuna's street. Yamamoto smiled good-naturedly at his ill-tempered comrade, waving a dismissive hand in an attempt to quelch his sour mood. Naturally, this had the opposite affect. He was Takeshi Yamamoto, and by definition his rival and thus, anything he did would succeed in irritating Gokudera.

"You're staring again, and it's pissing me the fuck off." He growled around the end of the new cigarette clenched in between his teeth.

Yamamoto scratched at his head unobtrusively. Had he really been that obvious?

"I was staring?" He asked, playing the fool. Gokudera turned his head to expose Yamamoto to the full power of his subzero glare.

"Yes." He ground out agitatedly as he took another incensed drag on his cigarette and exhaled the thick, gray smoke harshly a few seconds later, all the while flicking ash off of the cigarette with a nimble tap of his finger.

Yamamoto frowned. He didn't do it that time.

"Sorry." He said quietly. Gokudera rolled his eyes at the swordsman's idiocy, but otherwise shrugged it off, and the two continued onward to their boss and friend's home in relatively comfortable silence.

After a few seconds, Gokudera lifted the cigarette to his lips and took another long, thoughtful drag, the thin filter paper burning orange as it disintegrated into ash. His previously tensed shoulders sagged a bit as he inhaled the smoke, his body relaxing as the cloud of nicotine filled his lungs.

Yamamoto heard him sigh in half-contentment as he slowly exhaled the gray plume of smoke in through thin lips, taking another long puff a few seconds later.

_Please do it again._ Yamamoto thought pleadingly. That thing Gokudera did was so cool-looking and so… Yamamoto felt his face heat up a bit when Gokudera forewent forcefully exhaling the smoke, instead letting it filter out on its own through numbed lips and then re-inhaling the escaping smoke back in through his nose before blowing it back out through his mouth a second or two later.

Yamamoto shivered involuntarily. Good lord, that was so… freaking sexy.

"Is there something on my fucking face?" The bomber snapped again around a harsh plume of smoke as he forcefully exhaled the last of the smoke out of his lungs. Yamamoto looked away hurriedly, embarrassed that he was caught staring once again. It was hard not to though…

"No,no! It's not that! Ahaha…" He said awkwardly,trying to hide his interest in Gokudera's …_talent_…by laughing bashfully. Gokudera's irate frown morphed into a teasing smirk when he noticed the light flush of pink on Yamamoto's tanned cheeks.

"Then why do you keep looking at me like that, baseball nut? Do you like me or something?" He simpered tauntingly. The smile slowly slid off his face however when Yamamoto answered back with a knowing look and complete silence.

As such, it was Gokudera's turn to blush. He quickly looked straight ahead, trying to collect his now hopelessly jarred thoughts, taking another flustered puff on his quickly diminishing cigarette. Yamamoto suddenly chuckled, offhandedly rubbing his arm as he glanced anywhere but in the bomber's direction.

"You know, that thing you do with the smoke is kinda hot." He began nonchalantly. He heard the storm guardian sputter and cough at the shocking statement, the smoke he had inhaled traveling down the wrong pipe and forcing him to hack out his lungs. Yamamoto stared at his choking teammate in concern.

"You alright?" He asked cautiously as Gokudera beat at his chest in order to relieve the burning sensation. After a few minutes and several forceful coughs, Gokudera finally gathered his bearings enough to glare at he dark-haired rain guardian.

"What the hell did you just say?" He wheezed out, still coughing. Yamamoto smiled innocently at his rival.

"You look hot when you do that."

"Do what?" Yamamoto glanced at his comrade curiously. So, Gokudera really didn't notice when he did it afterall, did he?

"That thing you do with the smoke when you're thinking about something. It's really hot." He said casually. His lips curled into a teasing smile when Gokudera's face erupted into a full-on tomato color.

"How can you say that with a straight face?" He barked heatedly as he promptly flicked the butt of his now finished cigarette onto the sidewalk. Yamamoto shrugged.

"Well you asked. I was just being honest. It is really cool. I mean, I don't condone smoking or anything, but I don't mind it as much when you do it, especially when you do that sexy thing with the smoke." He said as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his uniform trousers.

Gokudera scowled at him, his pale face glowing like a red-hot poker from the awkwardness of this conversation he had unwittingly initiated.

"What thing?" He snapped. Yamamoto cast him a sideways glance, biting his lip slightly. Gokudera couldn't help but admit that Yamamoto looked good when he bit his lip like that.

"You know, that thing you do when you blow out the smoke through your mouth and then you suck it in through your nose and then blow it out again. That."

Gokudera looked a bit confused.

"I do that?"

"Yeah, all the time. I guess you don't notice when you do it, 'cause you only do it when you're upset or you're thinking really hard about something."

The silver-haired bomber gave the taller teen an odd look.

"You…watch me that often?"

At that, Yamamoto flushed a bit, not realizing that he had basically just admitted that he stared at the shorter teen quite often.

"Uh…well…um, crap." He stuttered, scratching at his dark hair timidly.

"Wow, that's not weird at all." Gokudera drawled sarcastically as they crossed the street.

"Well, you've looked really down lately, that's all." Yamamoto said quietly. Gokudera turned his head quickly to his fellow guardian, face completely paralyzed with shock.

"I have?" He asked seriously. Yamamoto nodded slowly, teasingly smile no longer present. He turned to Gokudera, a hard look in his eyes. His hitman side was showing.

"Gokudera, we all know you're upset about losing the storm ring to that blonde guy, but I want you to know that none of us think any less of you because of it. You did the best you could, and we're all proud that you're still here with us. Tsuna's proud that you're alive."

Gokudera's shoulders tensed at the mention of his beloved tenth, his eyebrows furrowing as his disappointment in himself manifested itself on his face. He cast a sub-zero glare at the taller hitman. Yamamoto was a lot more perceptive than everyone gave him credit for, if he was the only one who noticed his apparent depression.

"Che, that's easy for you to say, you won _your_ fight. But I failed. I couldn't win in the end, even with all the training I went through. How could I ever hope to be Jyuudaime's right-hand man when I couldn't even get a bloody ring for him?" He whispered heatedly, raking a frustrated hand through his silver hair.

Yamamoto frowned at the unspoken accusation in the shorter teen's tone. Sure, he did win his fight, but even if he hadn't, he wouldn't have mulled it over and lost sleep over it like Gokudera was clearly doing. It was just a fight, and they had won in the end, hadn't they? He couldn't understand why Gokudera took this so hard. Gokudera had a habit of beating himself up over things that were out of his control, and it was bad for his health.

"It wasn't your fault. The blonde guy-"

"Belphegor. His name was Belphegor." Gokudera corrected automatically, even though he never called the assassin by his given name either.

"Yeah there you go. But in any case, he was so driven to win that even when he was unconscious, his need to win forced you into that struggle. There was nothing you could've done. Tsuna's proud that you chose life over victory. You may not think it, but you really proved yourself that night."

Gokudera glanced at him curiously.

"What?"

"I know you feel like you lost and that everyone is secretly disappointed in you because of it, but that's not the case at all. Think about it, if you had gotten the ring, it would have been good, sure, but at the price of your life? It wasn't worth it, and Tsuna would have been devastated if anything had happened to you. In his mind, you _did_ win, because you came back, ring or no ring. You chose to live another day. Another day to spend with Tsuna, as his right-hand man and best friend. Why can't you see that?" Yamamoto said heatedly, his voice rising in his frustration.

Gokudera bowed his head, suddenly feeling shameful. It pissed him off to no end that he was getting this lecture from his rival of all people, but on the other hand, it felt good to hear that Tsuna was proud to have him as a friend.

That his precious tenth cared more about his life than a stupid ring.

And it took Yamamoto's weird staring habit to lead to this conversation he had secretly been avoiding with Tsuna or anyone else because he refused to see that no one blamed him for his loss. Gokudera's lips turned slightly, a small smile gracing his face.

"Thanks."

Yamamoto stopped in his tracks, eyes wide at the small declaration from his fellow Vongola guardian.

"What?"

Gokudera pointedly looked away, his cheeks reddening again.

"I said thanks. For trying to cheer me up, I guess. I must have been worrying Jyuudaime sick." He said regretfully. Yamamoto put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's cool. Tsuna is proud to call you his friend."

"R-really?" Gokudera sputtered incredulously.

The dark-haired teen openly laughed as he quickly nodded his head.

"Duh! It's obvious to everyone but you!"

Gokudera pouted as the two continued walking in now less tense silence.

After a few minutes, Yamamoto heard him chuckled quietly. The bomb-wielder suddenly turned to him, a mocking smirk on his face.

"So, about that thing I apparently do when I smoke…" He trailed off with a snicker as Yamamoto's lips curled into a toothy smirk. The baseball lover turned his chocolate gaze to his rival.

"Yeah?"

"Do I really look quote/unquote 'hot' when I do it?" He received his answer when Yamamoto discreetly licked his lips as he nodded slowly.

"You sure do."

"Why?"

Yamamoto started at the intent look in Gokudera's eyes.

"Well," He began as he hurriedly turned to face forward, trying in vain to keep the new shade of red from coating his tanned face.

"I can't really explain, you just…you get this dreamy look on your face when you think really hard about something, and then when you do it, your eyes get this droopy, 'come hither' look in them. You look really hot."

"Really now?" the bomber asked, his voice lowering noticeably. Yamamoto suppressed a shudder at the husky tone in Gokudera's voice.

Gokudera gave him a knowing look then, suddenly burrowing his hand in his bookbag. A few seconds later, he fished out a packet of cigarettes, and popped on in his mouth. He took his time lighting the stick, cupping his hand over the flame so that the wind wouldn't blow it out. The tip of the cigarette glowed a bright orangey-red as the flame caught, and the bomb-wielder took a long drag before quickly blowing it back out.

He pretended not to notice Yamamoto's intent stare as the two walked toward the gate that lead to Tsuna's front pathway.

"Please do it again." The swordsman suddenly asked quietly. Gokudera gave him a taunting smile.

"…I might." Gokudera said as he spitefully exhaled the smoke into Yamamoto's expectant face, smiling at the slight shiver in Yamamoto's arm.

"Do it."

"And what if I don't feel like it?"

Yamamoto's eye widened at the snitty answer. Was Gokudera mocking him?

"You're making fun of me!"

The bomber took another lengthy drag on his cigarette as he smirked at the swordsman, chuckling huskily.

"You're right, I am. And just for the record," He said quietly, smiling as he let the smoke flow out of his mouth before slowly inhaling it through his nose and holding in the breath, "it's called the _french inhale_."

With that, Gokudera released the smoke again, the white-gray tendrils filtering out through his mouth and nostrils in a seductively slow winding motion, grinning at the now thoroughly aroused Yamamoto through smoldering, half-lidded eyes. He dropped the cigarette to the ground and stomped it out before walking through the metal gate of Tsuna's house, but not before giving Yamamoto one last teasing glance over his shoulder.

Yamamoto stood rooted to his spot, his mouth hanging slack at the look in Gokudera's eyes. He was ninety-nine percent sure he had a massive erection at that moment.

He was also certain that he would remain planted there on the side walk for quite a while, because it probably wasn't going to go down anytime soon. Especially if he kept replaying that scene over and over again in his mind. Gokudera could be quite seductive when he wanted to be.

Smoking, he decided, was only okay if Gokudera did it.

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><p>So, you like? If so, leave me a nice, raving, foamy-mouthy review guys!<p>

Happy heavily belated Birthday Kyon-Kyon. Hope you enjoyed this little blerb.

Until next time, S*B!


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